


Since the day I met you

by xipypuck



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Riding, Top Brendon Urie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 11:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xipypuck/pseuds/xipypuck
Summary: Soo... Here I am. This is me trying to write some decent Ryden without Ragno being my perfect Brendon Urie. Let's be honest, Brendon Urie and I don't get each other when it comes to writing so, it's not as easy as one would think. I hope this is not a complete disaster and you can enjoy it even if it's just a bit. :)





	Since the day I met you

**Author's Note:**

> Soo... Here I am. This is me trying to write some decent Ryden without Ragno being my perfect Brendon Urie. Let's be honest, Brendon Urie and I don't get each other when it comes to writing so, it's not as easy as one would think. I hope this is not a complete disaster and you can enjoy it even if it's just a bit. :)

_(Present)_

 

“So. This is it,” Ryan says, and the words sound vacant in his ears, his limbs kind of frozen in place. Brendon’s soft laugh makes his chest constrict.

“I’m not dying, you know?” he answers, his smile as bright as always even though his eyes are unsure, the confidence he tries to show fading away in that childish frightened stare. Ryan knows him too much, they both know. But it’s always easier for Brendon to pretend Ryan can’t really see through it. “I’m just leaving. It’s life, Ry.”

“You will call, right?” Ryan asks. Leaving sounds so much more than Brendon is saying. Leaving sounds like abandoning him, sounds like freedom, sounds like stepping into the wild just to know new things, experience life while Ryan is stuck here in the same city that saw them grow up together since they met thirteen years ago.

“Of course I will!” Brendon says, and this time he openly laughs at him, his eyes gaining that light that Ryan is fascinated about. “You’re still my best friend. Going away is not gonna change that.”

But life could, Ryan thinks. Meeting new friends, going places, starting to live all kind of new things. You soon start to forget to call, you have no time for a phone call anymore. You miss your friends, of course, but you love your life too much to need them like you needed them before. Not long after that, you call just on birthdays. And suddenly one day you just don't call anymore.  


“Best friend," Ryan repeats, trying to reaffirm himself. Brendon steps closer to him and hugs him, and Ryan lets himself be held in that warmth that's become his home. He breathes in the scent he will always feel as his safe place. He will remember this as the last time he felt whole every time he misses Brendon's laugh, Brendon's voice, and the way his face lights up every time Ryan says something that makes him proud of himself. He lives for those moments. He has always been sure that his purpose in life was to make Brendon happy. Even if it means letting him go.  


“Always," Brendon whispers in his ear, the smile still present in his voice. Ryan holds him tighter.  


He desperately wants to believe him.

 

*

Ryan is ten years old when he first meets Brendon Urie. 

He’s in school and Brendon is introduced as the new kid in his class. Ryan doesn’t become his friend right away, mostly because he doesn’t make friends that easily. He’s a quiet boy, more interested in pirates stories and adventures tales than anything else. Boys in school don’t like books as much as he does, and girls often think he’s cute for a boy and tell him things about princesses and dresses. Ryan is not that interested. So he’s a loner, as his mom says to her friends when they ask why is he sitting in their backyard instead of playing with the rest of the kids outside. Ryan doesn’t know what that means, but he suspects it’s the reason why his mom doesn’t like him much.

Ryan watches everything, though. He doesn’t like to talk because he’s not good at it and he stutters sometimes and the rest of the kids laugh at him, but he likes to watch. He watches a lot, enough for him to know that Abbey Hyde always steals Ronald Gerk pencil and some days she doesn’t give it back. He also knows that Samantha likes to pick her nose when she thinks no one is watching and that her Science teacher always looks at the principal like the girls always look at the boys in the movies his mom watches at night. Ryan doesn’t know much about those movies, though, he just knows loud things happen in bed after the girl looks at the boy just like his teacher looks at the principal.

The first thing Ryan notices about Brendon is how big he smiles. He doesn't think he has ever seen someone smile like that, no matter how happy they are. He thinks the new kid must be very, very happy to smile that big. Then, he sees his eyes and how big they are. Everything about this kid seems to be big, except himself, who is not that tall. Ryan is very tall for someone his age, everyone tells him that, though they all tell him he's too thin. Anyway, Ryan takes in Brendon's face as his teacher introduces him, and his eyes remind him of glitter because they are shiny. Ryan likes shiny. Also, he doesn't walk like the rest of them, either, he mostly bounces on his feet on his way to his desk.  


As the days go by, Ryan soon discovers that Brendon always seems to be happy. And he likes that. But he still doesn’t talk to him because Brendon doesn’t notice him, Ryan thinks. It usually happens because he’s not as loud and restless as the rest of the kids, but he’s used to it. He doesn’t like being watched by the rest of the girls and boys in his class. Brendon talks to everyone, though, Ryan discovers. He does it  _all the time_ and the teachers always get mad at him and he gets detention a lot because of it. 

The rest of the kids aren't friends of his, but Ryan doesn't think Brendon realizes that. They always talk to him just to make him do something they know they'll get in trouble if they get caught, and Brendon always does, his smile still big and his eyes shining with happiness. Friends are not supposed to do those things, so he knows they are not his friends. Not really. Brendon doesn't know, though. Ryan thinks he's a bit stupid, but he keeps that to himself.  


It turns out, fate is fate, as his mom says sometimes, and even though Ryan doesn’t exactly know what that means, he suspects it has something to do with the fact that he loses his lunch one day. He is peacefully sitting under the tree he always plays with and some kids come running right in front of him. They probably don’t see him, because they trip and step on him, making his lunch fall to the floor and get covered in dirt. Ryan hears the voice while he’s still looking at it and trying to decide what to do about it. His mom would kill him if he doesn’t eat it.

“Here,” a cheerful voice says, and Ryan looks up to see a huge smile. Brendon bounces on his feet, offering half of his lunch to him. “We can share.”

Ryan hesitates, but he’s hungry, and he can’t get back at home saying he didn’t have lunch. In the end, he takes what Brendon’s offering, and he seems to take it as an invitation to sit next to him, somehow still managing to not stay totally still even though he’s sitting and eating. Ryan wonders if he can stop.

“Thanks,” he says softly, looking down and starting to eat what Brendon gave him. He can see Brendon’s smile again.

“You're welcome! I'm Brendon," he says, talking with his mouth full. "And you're Ryan. I know because I asked the rest of the kids. You don't talk a lot but teachers like you. You never get detention," he talks in a rush. Ryan barely has time to keep up with him. "I wish I didn't get detention. But I always do. Mom says I deserve it," he shrugs. "Because that's the way I am. They want me to stay still but I can't, though I try. I do try and I told my mom that but she doesn't believe me, so I always get punished at home, too. Do you ever get punished at home?"  


“No," Ryan answers quietly, still trying to remember everything Brendon said. "As long as I don't bother my mom while she watches tv or cook or plays cards with her friends I'm good. My dad is never home."  


“You have no brothers and sisters?” Brendon asks, his eyes growing big when Ryan shakes his head. Ryan has never seen eyes so big. They are pretty. “I have four of them. But they are too old. They don’t like that I bother them, either. They don’t like me playing dinosaurs or singing or running through the house or making any sound. Because it’s annoying,” he explains. Ryan doesn’t know how is it to have brothers and sisters, but it doesn’t sound that funny. It’s scary. “I can be your brother,” Brendon adds then, his face lighting up just as he says it. Ryan considers for a few seconds, but he likes how Brendon smile gets bigger with the idea of it.  


“Okay," he says. And he knows he's made a good choice when Brendon beams. He smiles at him for the first time.  


From that day on, they become inseparable.

 

*

There's not a lot to do when you grow up in Vegas, not until you're eighteen at least. So when the summer comes and school ends you're doomed to spend the next two months bored out of your ass in your place unless you are lucky enough to travel somewhere, like Spencer does. Spencer is a year younger than them, but he's cool and given that Brendon can make friends in an empty room and he's one of the few people that pay attention to them and actually thinks they're cool, it's not that hard to become friends.  


So this summer it's just Brendon and Ryan. Again. Just like last year and the year before that. And even though Vegas' hot is suffocating and there's not a lot for them to do, Ryan would do anything to leave his house. And Brendon feels just the same since he's fighting more and more with his family as the years pass by. At first it was just from time to time, but lately, it's been so often and so bad Ryan has found himself opening his window late at night so Brendon can come in without his father noticing. They don't talk a lot about it, Brendon hasn't said why they are fighting that much, but Ryan doesn't care anyway. He's there for him anytime he needs him.  


And that’s how July finds them, lying in the grass with t-shirts sticking on their skin and the sun tickling on their arms and face, the hot making them sweat, sunglasses covering their eyes.

“I hate summer,” Ryan complaints, feeling the hot grass under his hands. He hears Brendon laughing, but he doesn’t move.

“You don’t,” he says. He isn’t wearing a t-shirt anymore, and Ryan sometimes envies his confidence to just take off his shirt like that. He’d like to do that, but he’s too skinny and too pale and simply not as beautiful as Brendon is. “You say the same every year, but next one you’re here again, lying down in the sun enjoying it.”

“I’m gonna get a sunburn,” Ryan ignores him. “There’s nothing to enjoy about that.”

“Then why are you still here?” Brendon asks, and Ryan can hear the smile on his voice. He doesn’t answer. He’s here because he doesn’t want to be home, because Brendon is there, and because, well, maybe he doesn’t hate summer after all. “Come on, come with me.”

Ryan frowns and sits up, looking at Brendon when he stands and grabs his t-shirt. 

“Where are we going?”

“To a place where you can stop complaining, old lady,” Brendon laughs, helping him get up. 

“But it’s hot...”

“Is it? I didn’t notice,” Brendon mocks, putting his t-shirt on and grabbing his wrist to pull on him. “Let’s go, you asshole. Your gloomy self is destroying my summer mojo.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Shut up and walk," Brendon orders, pulling on him while they walk away from their previous position. "Do you trust me?"  


Ryan huffs because that’s a stupid question and he follows, cleaning the sweat off his face while they walk somewhere he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care, he’s with Brendon, and as long as he’s not taking him to his place (not that he has a problem with his place, but he suspects Brendon’s family doesn’t like him that much), he’s all good.

It turns out, the place where Brendon plans to take him is a lake. They have to walk a lot and Ryan complains all the way there and Brendon just rolls his eyes and makes fun of him and tells him he seems to be fifty instead of fifteen. But he ignores him and keeps walking and doesn’t get mad or anything, and that’s what makes Brendon so awesome.

Ryan needs a little of convincing to get naked and into the lake wearing just his underwear, but Brendon promises a few times that they’re all alone, that he’s not going to pull Ryan’s boxers down (he did once while they were changing and Ryan stopped talking to him for a whole week) and that he’s going to protect him from the sharks. It’s stupid, because they’re not in the sea, and it makes Ryan roll his eyes, but he smiles too. And he ends up in the water wearing just his underwear.

“Why haven’t we come here before?” he asks as he swims, smiling. The water is cold and it’s awesome. “You let me complain and get a sunburn every summer and you knew this was here? We could have spent here a lot of days!”

“Because it’s not allowed,” Brendon simply says, smiling content and relaxed. 

It takes Ryan out of his good mood, and he opens his eyes wide, looking at Brendon.

“What?!” he screams, looking around in case someone is going to catch them. “Are you for real? Brendon! We’re not supposed to be here! We could be arrested! Are you crazy?”

Brendon laughs and opens his eyes to look at him, his eyes big and his lashes wet with water.

“Yeah, most people think so,” he jokes, looking at him kindly. “Relax, man. There is no one here, see? We’re good.”

“But they could come! The police could be coming here right now,” Ryan replies, starting to walk away so he can get out. “I’m out. I’m not gonna get arrested because of this.”

“Come ooooon,” Brendon says, laughing as he grabs Ryan to stop him from going away. “It’s fun! And you’re not hot anymore, right?”

“Fun?! _Brendon,”_ Ryan says, frowning more. He doesn't know why he's so surprised, it's not the first time Brendon gets them in some kind of trouble being reckless and impulsive. "Jesus, can't you just follow the rules like a normal person?"  


That hurts. Ryan realizes because Brendon's face falls and his grip loosens, but he's too mad to care. He just gets free of his hold and starts walking away. He'd been in so much trouble at home if he gets arrested. His dad would go crazy, Ryan doesn't know what he would do to him, and he's not going to stay to discover it.  


“Ryan!” Brendon shouts when he’s outside putting his clothes on even though he’s soaked. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” Brendon gets where he is and searches his face, trying to make Ryan look at him. His hair is everywhere and drops of water fall down, his skin already tanned. He looks really sorry, worried about Ryan going away and not talking to him again (it wouldn’t be the first time). “I just wanted you to stop being hot, okay? I thought it was a good idea, no one ever comes here, I never actually did it before.”

“You have any idea of what would my dad do to me if I were taken back to my place by the police? Did you think about that?" Ryan says, shaking his hair to make it stop dripping. Brendon bites his lip and looks at him with big eyes like he just realizes what he has done.  


“I’m sorry...” he repeats, looking down. Ryan looks at him and sighs. As much as he can be a drama queen sometimes and he gets mad easily, he can’t stay mad at Brendon a lot these days. It’s just too hard. 

“Okay. Jesus, just,” he starts, shaking his head and disheveling Brendon’s hair. “Use that smart brain you have from time to time, asshole.”

That makes Brendon smile again, and that’s much better. He promises, just like he’s done a hundred times before, and Ryan rolls his eyes and says sure, not really believing him, but he smiles.

They don’t talk again while Brendon gets dressed and they start to walk back to the city. The sun is already falling down and it’s not as hot as before, but Ryan is still thankful he’s still wet because now the hotness is much more bearable than before. As they walk in silence, Brendon jumps around and hits rocks, and sometimes clears his throat like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Ryan can feel him restless, but he’s learned enough about Brendon by now to know if he needs to say something, he will. Brendon is not good at keeping his mouth shut.

“So,” Brendon starts when he finally decides to talk. “Can I sleep at your place tonight?”

“Sure," Ryan shrugs. "But you'll have to sneak in when my dad is sleeping. You know he doesn't like people staying," he adds. The first time he told Brendon, he felt ashamed. But now Brendon knows quite well how things are at home, so he just nods. Luckily for them, his dad barely stays awake until late anymore, mostly because he drinks himself into unconsciousness. "Are things good at home?"  


Brendon shrugs and looks away, and Ryan takes that as a no even though he doesn’t answer. He has learned to decipher Brendon’s body language because he tends to talk a lot, but he doesn’t really say much. His eyes never lie, though, and Ryan can see through them when things are good, when he’s hurt, when he’s thinking something mischievous and when he doesn’t want to talk about something. That’s what he sees right now, so Ryan doesn’t push it.

They talk about something else as they come back, chatting and laughing and making plans for the rest of the summer so they don't have to spend their days lying down under a tree getting soaked in sweat. It's pretty much dark by the time they arrive at Brendon's home, Ryan's a few blocks away. He promises to write him as soon as his dad is sleeping so he can come in, and Brendon says he'll be fine in the meantime and that way he'll have time to get ready.  


When Ryan gets home, his dad is already drunk, and he complains about him being outside all day, not being there to fix dinner even though he doesn't even eat that much. It's not that bad, though, because Ryan apologizes and just goes up to his room and waits until his dad stops screaming at him for being useless, which happens pretty soon. He's lived through worse. It's just half an hour later when he walks down the stairs quietly and sticks his head in the living room to find his dad fast asleep on the armchair, an empty beer bottle on the floor and the football match playing on the tv. He writes Brendon to come over and walks back up to his room as quiet as he can, knowing he will be here in fifteen minutes top.  


They've done this plenty of times, so they kind of have a routine. Ryan gets the mattress out of the guest room and throws it on the floor next to his bed, he prepares their favorite movies and gets the tv on. By the time Brendon gets to his place, he already has the candy, popcorn and a few drinks in his room. Beer for Brendon, soda for himself. They get comfy and start their movie marathon like it's just what they're supposed to do, eating and drinking and laughing. Ryan adores these nights.  


“You know?” Brendon starts, his eyes fixed on the screen. Ryan can see him watch him sideways, though. “I dreamed last night about sucking cock.”

“Did you?” Ryan asks, laughing. Brendon laughs, too, but it sounds weird.

“Yeah. And I liked it. I think I’m gonna try it,” he says, making Ryan laugh more. Brendon looks at him now and Ryan raises an eyebrow.

“What?” he says, smiling. “You wanna suck my cock, Urie?” he laughs again, but it dies on his throat when he looks at Brendon and realizes he’s being serious. “Um. You serious?”

“Yes. I mean, not about sucking _your_ cock, you’re not that lucky. But,” he shrugs, but Ryan can tell he’s worried about his reaction. No that he minds, not at all, but Brendon is talking about it as if it is nothing. It isn’t nothing. It is a big deal, Ryan thinks, it’s not something you just drop in the middle of a conversation. Brendon stops chewing, though, and the atmosphere gets tense. Ryan swallows.

“Well, then,” he says, clearing his throat. “Go for it,” he adds, drinking from his bottle. He can almost feel Brendon’s frown.

“Are you gonna be weird about this?” he asks, getting defensive. “Because if it bothers you that much then I can fucking go now.”

“What? No! Of course not, Bren, come on,” Ryan shakes his head, looking at him. “It just caught me off guard. But it’s cool, man. You can fuck whoever you want, dude,” he watches him close, and Brendon still looks hesitant. “You’re my best friend, Bren. Sucking dick is not gonna change that. Unless you suck mine and it’s good. Then maybe I would marry you,” he jokes, punching him softly to try to loosen the mood.

It works because Brendon relaxes right away and he laughs, hitting him with the cushion. He doesn't say it, but Ryan can see the relief all over his face and he knows he's thankful. He can understand. They are mostly all they have. Losing a friend over something like that, losing each other, is something worth to worry about. Brendon sighs and makes a face, looking down at his lap.  


“I fought with my mom again before,” he says. “I didn’t tell her I was sleeping here, though. I don’t want her to know,” he explains. Ryan doesn’t understand why, but he’s not sure about asking. Brendon keeps talking without it being necessary. “I… I don’t care that she doesn’t know. I mean, she doesn’t give a shit about me anyway, right? Why the fuck should I tell her? 

“Well…,” Ryan starts, being really cautious. Brendon could be very short tempered when it came to his family. “You know. Just so she doesn’t know you’re not dead somewhere.”

Brendon huffs and laughs, but it sounds bitter and somehow full of sadness.

“She won’t be that lucky… I’d do her a favor if that was the case,” Brendon answers, drinking what’s left of his beer, still looking at the screen. Ryan wants to tell him that’s not true, but the thing is he doesn’t know. He himself thinks sometimes his dad would be just mildly bothered if he died. And just because he’d have to spend a lot of money burying him instead of spending it on beer. “She just hates me. I mean, she never liked me a lot, I guess. I’m too much to handle. Too loud, too restless, too chatty, too unbearable. But me telling them I like dick was pretty much the icing on the cake,” he says just like that. 

“Um,” he starts, not really knowing what to say. “Why did you tell them? I mean. You knew there was a high chance of them not liking it,” he says.

“I don’t fucking care,” Brendon says, and he gets a little defensive again in that way that tells Ryan he’s really afraid now. “This is who I am and I’m not going to hide. I’m not ashamed of who I am, as much as they think I should,” he says, and somehow Ryan can sense he’s not talking just about his parents. He stays silent for a few seconds, and when he talks again he just nods along.

“Okay,” he says, looking back at the screen. He can see Brendon relax a little and look away, but the atmosphere gets tense again until he talks a few minutes later. “You can stay here for as long as you need and you know it. We just need to be careful about my dad, but he doesn’t really mind me, so. We should be good.”

“Thanks,” Brendon says after a few seconds, this time quieter. “I really appreciate it, man.”

“Anytime," Ryan tells him, smiling. He doesn't tell him he thinks it was a stupid move to tell his parents. He can't say he's not surprised but he doesn't really mind. Brendon is Brendon. Nothing he says or does can change what he means to him. Also, stupid move or not, Ryan doesn't think he has ever admired someone as much as he admires Brendon at that moment. Stupid brave motherfucker.  


*

Ryan can hear shouting. He doesn’t know what they’re saying anymore because he’s hiding under the bed murmuring songs so he doesn’t hear them, his door closed. He somehow knows this is his fault, though. Ryan hears steps and hears doors slamming, some more loud noises like there’s someone opening and closing doors and drawers. His dad screams louder and this time it sounds closer. He covers his ears and closes his eyes. The sound is muffled now, but still there.

He's used to his parents fighting, he has heard them sometimes. But it was never like this. He could hear them some nights when his dad got home late and they thought Ryan was sleeping. They fought about his dad being so late, about him not even walking straight even though Ryan never understood why. They fight about him too, because his mother is sick of always taking care of him and not having time for herself, but his dad always tells her it was her decision to have him. They never agree on anything related to him, and Ryan thinks he is like a burden no one wants but they felt forced to have, so they just passed it from one to another as soon as they could.  


This time it is different, though. Ryan never heard them shout like this before, or the doors slamming shut. So he just stays under the bed with his ears covered and his eyes shut and murmuring songs until he can hear the screams stopping. Only then he sticks his head out of under the bed and gets out when he hears nothing. He's about to open the door and see what's wrong when his mom enters the room, her face red with rage and her hair disheveled. At first, Ryan thinks she's gonna start screaming at him too, but then she smiles, small and kind of sad.  


Ryan doesn't understand everything she says, he doesn't even listen to her that much, he just sees the suitcases in the corridor and knows what's happening. She tells him she needs her life back, that she knows he's going to understand and that his dad will take care of him. She says she'll be happier that way and that she knows he wants his mom to be happy. Then she just caresses his cheek a little, smiles at him and says goodbye. The last thing he sees is her back as she grabs her things and walks away.  


As a twelve years old, he can't really tell what comes through him at that moment. He stays where he is for a few minutes, paralyzed at his door, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Years later, he'll know the pain it caused, how he felt afraid and confused and sad and even guilty. When he's old enough he will know what kind of a burden he felt in that moment, how he wanted to disappear or just run after his mom and beg her to come back, promise her he would be better. As much as his mom never seemed to like him that much, Ryan was willing to do anything it took to make her love him as much as he loved her.  


But the minutes pass by and she doesn't come back, and Ryan's eyes stay open wide until his dad appears at his door, startling him. Ryan flinches when he throws his beer bottle against the door, breaking it in a million pieces. His heart speeds up, his chest starts raising and falling fast and his eyes blurred as his dad start shouting random words. He can't hear him, it feels like something got stuck inside his ears and he can only hear a ringing sound. And his dad takes a step closer to him, tall and imposing making Ryan's body start to tremble. He's lived this before, but suddenly he just needs to escape. And he runs.  


The cold air hits his wet face as he runs, hearing just the sounds of his own harsh breathing and his feet hitting the concrete. Ryan doesn’t think as he keeps going, his brain just too shocked to be reasonable, he just runs and runs on automatic until he recognizes the house at his right. And then he sneaks in through the yard, going to the house’s side and starting to climb the vine as he has done a million times before. The light in Brendon’s room is on and he knows the window will be open when he gets there.

Brendon jumps surprised when he hears the window open violently and his eyes open wide as Ryan enters his room with his hair messed up, his cheeks red and his breath rushed, but he moves right away, standing from the bed and walking to him.

“What is going on?” he asks as he watches Ryan’s face. It doesn’t look good. It looks like bad news. Brendon checks for some bruising or scratches like he knows Ryan can have, but he doesn’t find anything to worry about. Ryan just looks at him, then, and his eyes hide so many things Brendon doesn’t know where to start.

“She’s gone,” is all he says with a strangled voice. And Brendon doesn’t really know what he means or who is he talking about, but he hugs him anyway because he feels like it’s what he has to do.

Ryan just hugs him back so hard Brendon finds it hard to breathe. But he doesn’t care.

Ryan doesn’t cry and Brendon doesn’t ask. He waits until Ryan falls asleep on his bed and just stares at his peaceful face wondering what happened. He has never seen Ryan like this since he met him. And he knows things are weird at home even though Ryan never said. He has seen the bruises sometimes, and he’s been there a couple of times to see Mr. Ross get mad at nothing if he’s home or Mrs. Ross complaining about absolutely everything Ryan does even if he does all she wants. Brendon can’t understand a thing, but he doesn’t need to. He’ll just do whatever Ryan needs him to do. 

They don’t talk about it. Ryan never mentions his mom ever again. Brendon understands.

From that day on, Ryan finds himself spending more and more time at Spencer's house, and so does Brendon. Mrs. Smith treats them like the mother they will never have and they are always welcome in there. If she knows what's going on with any of their families, she never says, but Ryan is thankful to have a place to hide when his dad is too drunk to be around, especially since Brendon's house is not always a good option.  


Whatever he does, though, Brendon is always by his side. Hiding at Spencer’s, hiding in a parking lot, hiding anywhere but home. Whenever he needs to run, Brendon is right next to him, no matter what time is it. Even when months after that Ryan has to start spending days at the hospital taking care of the mess his dad has become, even when his moods change and he becomes a kid that grew up too fast, even when Ryan hates himself for being there for that man that never was there for him. Brendon never asks and he never judges, and soon Ryan starts to understand that no matter what happens, Brendon will always be unconditional for him.

*

The words are blurred while he tries to find what he's looking for in his phone. Ryan hears the laugh in his ears and he needs a couple of seconds to realize it's his own, what makes him laugh even more. He bumps into someone as he walks through the people towards the backyard so he can hear better because the music is too loud in the house and the people are screaming and chatting and laughing everywhere. The glass in his hand almost falls down as he brings the phone to his ear. It needs to ring a couple of times more than usual before the voice on the other side appears.  


“Ryan? What the hell dude, it's fucking two am," Brendon sounds like he's been sleeping until now, but Ryan doesn't really notice.  


“Hey! Heeeeeey! My man!” he says, giggling. “Hey what, what are you doing, hum? Why aren’t you here? This party is goooooooood, dude! Good, good,” he doesn’t understand why Brendon is not there, he is always there in parties.

Brendon sighs and the sound of sheets moving reaches Ryan's ears.  


“I told you I wasn’t coming.”

“Oh. Oooohhhh. That's true! You did," Ryan laughs again, swallowing the rest of his drink and leaving the glass somewhere on a plant. "But whyyyyy? I miss you, man. You should be here."  


“You're drunk. Again," Brendon says, and his voice sounds harder this time like he's so much more awake. And he sounds tired, too, and not because he was awakened in the middle of the night. "And we have a final tomorrow, I remind you."  


“Oh, shit,” Ryan moves so fast the whole room spins around when he enters it. “Woah, woah, wait, I. Okay. Have we? Shit. Why didn’t I remem- oh, sorry, dude,” he says when he bumps into someone’s chest, laughing hard. “Hey, it wasn’t intentional! Jerk,” he murmurs. Brendon hears everything at the other side, rubbing his face. “What was I saying? Oh, yeah. Final. But hey, hey. Brendon.”

“What, Ryan?” Brendon sighs again, tired but tender. 

“I love you, man," Ryan says, laughing right after and sighing. The line goes dead on the other side and he looks at the phone to check the call is still running. "No, really. I don't think you know… It's. You're my best friend. You're… amazing in every fucking sense so you're my best friend. But you're so much more at the same time."  


“Ry. You’re really drunk. You… what are you saying?” Brendon laughs a little, but it doesn’t sound real. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Stop drinking, I’m serious.”

“No. No, I know. I know, promise. And this," he laughs again. "This is better this way because maybe I don't ever ever ever say it any other way so, maybe. Shit. Maybe this… maybe what I wanna say is that I'm-." The words get interrupted by a loud crash and people laughing and someone swearing. Brendon hears someone saying there's blood and then Ryan's voice comes back at the phone, laughing hard. "Dude! Dude, you're not gonna believe it. I just fell down on a glass table and. Oh, oh wow, I'm bleeding," he laughs again like it's the funniest thing on earth.  


“Okay,” Brendon closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Tell me where you are. I’m coming for you.”

Ryan remembers flashes after that. Blood on his hands, something cold on his forehead, a lot of blurred people walking in front of him and talking to him. And then he remembers Brendon concerned face, his cold hands on his cheeks and his deep voice calling him an asshole. He remembers getting in a car, and then he doesn't remember anything else.  


Someone wakes him up the next morning shaking his shoulder hard and punching him on the stomach. Ryan coughs and grunts. The pain in his head is so bad he can’t open his eyes, and he’s been hungover before, but this time it’s pretty bad, he doesn’t remember a pain like this ever before. He brings his hand to his head and when he touches it, it hurts even more, making him complain. 

“What the…?” his forehead feels sore and there’s a dressing on it. He frowns and opens his eyes slowly, seeing Brendon getting his pack ready. “What the hell happened?”

“Oh, that? That you’re such an idiot and you got drunk as fuck and almost break your head with a glass table,” Brendon says as he keeps getting books inside his backpack. Ryan frowns.

“Oh. That explains the pain,” he says, making Brendon laugh. He sits on the bed and just when he’s on the edge about to stand up he notices he’s just in his underwear. He blushes.

“Yeah… You're lucky I'm the best friend ever and I know how to clean a wound. Otherwise, you would have ended in a hospital," Brendon says. He looks at him when he's done, and Ryan sees there's something else on his face, something Brendon is not saying. His head hurts too much to decipher what it is.  


“Thanks, man,” he says, touching the dressing softly. “How did you…? Did I call you?”

“Yes. Again,” Brendon says, crossing his arms on his chest and laughing short. He frowns, though. “You know? I know I’m awesome and all that but this is getting kind of ridiculous. You calling me every time you get drunk. Which is a lot, lately...” he says. His smile doesn’t go away, but he looks at Ryan curious, almost hesitant.

“What?” Ryan asks, not really knowing what to say.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying you could call Spencer, or not to call at all. But you always call me when you’re so drunk you can’t even talk properly,” he says. He looks at him like he’s waiting for something, and he laughs again when Ryan doesn’t say anything. “It doesn’t matter. But you’re paying next time we go to the movies, man. You woke me up at two fucking am and made me go pick you up. I almost have a heart attack when I saw you covered in blood, you know?” he makes it sound like it’s nothing, like he’s joking, but Ryan knows he’s not. He can see it in the way his shoulders are tense and his eyes look different. 

“I’m sorry...” Ryan murmurs, looking down at his lap. He shouldn’t have called him, he doesn’t know why he did. He doesn’t even remember what he said. On the other hand, god knows where he would be if he wouldn’t have called and Brendon didn’t come.

“Yeah. You better be," Brendon says. Ryan hears him sigh and there's a couple of seconds of silence. The kind of silence that tells him Brendon wants to say something and he doesn't know how. "You could slow down a little, too, you know? I mean. I know I'm not the one to talk since half of the times you get drunk I get drunk with you," he laughs, biting his bottom lip and looking at Ryan's eyes when he sighs. "But. Don't you think this is getting out of hand? I mean. You were at a party yesterday, I'll give you that, but last time you called me you were at home. On a Monday," he says, looking at Ryan like he's not sure about what to expect of him.  


Ryan swallows the lump that appears in his throat out of a sudden, biting his lip and blinking as he looks down again. He shrugs because he doesn't know what to say to that. He could say he hates it too, that he reminds himself of his father a lot these days, that he doesn't really know why he does it. But he doesn't say anything because he doesn't know how. Brendon sighs and sits on the bed next to him. They stay silent for a few minutes until he speaks again, this time lowering his voice and not looking at Ryan at first.  


“Look, I. I’m worried about you, okay?” he says, and he laughs nervously, swallowing and rubbing his hands on his pants. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but. Whatever it is I’m here. That’s what best friends are for, right?” Brendon adds, smiling big when Ryan looks at him. It reaches his eyes, but there’s still something else in there, like he’s really serious about this. Ryan realizes what he’s putting Brendon through and looks down, sighing.

“You’re right. I’m… I don’t know why I’m doing this, but,” he sighs, looking at him. He needs to remember Brendon’s stare before he makes something stupid again. He needs this to remind himself what he’s risking. He’s been through this with his dad. He still is. And he’s not going to make Brendon go through it because of him. “I’ll be better. I promise, okay?”

“Okay," Brendon nods and smiles at him. Then he hesitates."Just… You're not your father, okay?" he adds, and Ryan has to look away because he feels too exposed. He knows Brendon knows him better than anyone, but it makes him tighten his jaw anyway. Ryan nods, then, and Brendon nods, too. "And you can call me anytime you want. I, I don't mind, really. In case you want to say… whatever," he seems to be waiting for something else, his eyes moving around his face, but Ryan doesn't know what else to say. He just looks back at him, at the freckles on his nose and his long lashes. Something tightens on his guts and he guesses it's the guilty feeling of disappointing his best friend. The feeling stays there the whole time they look at each other until Brendon clears his throat and looks away, patting his knee. "Come on. We have a final in half an hour. Get ready. Your jeans are over there, you can wear one of my t-shirts. Yours is covered in blood and it stinks," he laughs, short and weird.  


Ryan tries to get what's going on in the atmosphere right now, but then he has to move if he wants to get to high school on time and he forgets all about it as he thinks about the final and how in hell is he going to manage to pass it barely knowing shit about it and being hungover. He tells this to Brendon as they walk and he tells him not to worry about it because he will tell him the answers. Ryan smiles at him and throws an arm over Brendon's shoulders to hug him. He really loves this man.  


*

Brendon, Spencer and he are sharing a joint at Brendon's dorm, laughing at something stupid Spencer said. Brendon's roommate is home for the weekend so they don't have to worry about him walking in the middle of the night and throwing them out of his room, which is cool since they have no plans this weekend. Most people are somewhere with friends or families, but they stayed there because Ginger was out visiting some family and Brendon and Ryan didn't want to go back home anyway.  


Ryan is laying back against Brendon's chest, sitting between his parted legs on the bed, Spencer sitting in front of them on the other guy's mattress. College is almost over, the summer almost here, and it's hot in the room but they can barely feel something because they're a little high to notice. Every time they laugh Ryan's body shakes with Brendon's and it makes it even more fun.  


“Okay, okay,” Spencer says, the smile still on. “Next one. Weirdest place you fucked someone. Ross.”

“Humm,” he makes a thinking face, taking a drag and bringing his hand to Brendon’s mouth so he does the same. Spencer looks at them curiously. “I think it was a, a, shit, what’s its name?” he laughs and Brendon does too, nodding because he knows what he’s talking about. “One of these things in a play park. A boat. You know? Where the kids get inside and play and everything.”

“Oh my god! You’re a fucking depraved, man! A _playpark_ ,” Spencer makes a face, but he laughs hard as Ryan shrugs. “Disgusting. Okay, Brendon. Your turn.”

“I don't know if it was the weirdest, but it sure as hell was the most uncomfortable one," he says, getting his fingers through Ryan's hair and making him close his eyes. It's relaxing. Ryan loves when Brendon does that, it feels so good. "A Ferris wheel."  


“A _what_?” Ryan asks, looking up at him with big eyes. Brendon looks at him and laughs.

“What? It's not weirder than a playpark," Brendon says, getting Ryan's hair back and off his forehead. "They stopped it when we were up and it broke and we got bored," he shrugs, laughing when Ryan shakes his head and laughs too. "but it moved a lot and there wasn't a lot of space to, you know."  


Spencer laughs too, watching as Brendon tries to make a representation of it with his hands. Ryan laughs harder and grabs them to make him stop, putting them down but leaving his own with them. He sees the way Spencer looks at the movement and then at him, but he ignores him because he doesn’t know what’s with Spencer looking at them like that the whole night.

“What about you, Spence?” Brendon asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell us if it was with Linda, we know you don’t like to tell your dirty secrets with her.”

Spencer rolls his eyes and gives him the finger, but he laughs anyway because he knows it’s true. He’s willing to share almost everything about any of his conquests except his girlfriend. They’re dating for three years now so he’s running out of stories.

“It was definitely in a wardrobe," he says, and both Ryan and Brendon start laughing. "The clothes kept falling over us and I hit my knee with a drawer and almost lose an eye with a hanger. It was awful," he laughs too and he finishes the joint, leaving it in an ashtray before going back to the bed.  


Ryan is still laughing, the effect of the drugs making it funnier than it really is, and Brendon looks at him and laughs more, telling him to stop laughing or he can't do it. He brings a hand to Ryan's mouth when he doesn't shut up, covering it to make him stop. It takes a few, but in the end, his laugh dies too, and he licks Brendon's hand to make him take it off. Spencer is looking at them with a funny face.  


“What about you two?” he asks suddenly. “You never fucked? Like, each other.”

Now it’s Brendon’s turn to laugh, and he does loudly and hard, hitting his head on the wall when he throws it back. Ryan raises an eyebrow and smiles funny, looking at Spencer.

“What? Where the hell did that come from?” he laughs. “I think you smoke too much, dude.”

“Why? I don’t see why it’s so funny. It’s not that crazy.”

“Man. Spence. Come on,” Brendon says, calming down but still smiling. “Ryan doesn’t fuck guys.”

Spencer lifts an eyebrow then, smiling crookedly.

“That's the only reason? I think he will if you push it a little," he laughs, and Ryan suddenly feels himself blush. He tries to hide it with his hair and he laughs again, not sounding half of the truth he would want to.  


“That’s not. I mean. We’re best friends,” Brendon says, laughing again but sounding more nervous now. “And as much as you say, Ryan doesn’t like guys. I need a cock to be hard if I’m gonna be fucked, please and thank you,” he adds, being dirty on purpose and laughing more.

“Anyway. Have _you_ ever fucked a guy, Spencer?” Ryan asks, trying to change the subject. He doesn’t mind talking about the whole fucking thing, but he feels weird talking about him and Brendon. Like. They’re best friends. 

Spencer says he’s never had the pleasure, but then he starts telling them for the hundredth time about that day he thought he was being friendly with a guy but he was flirting with him and he didn’t realize until the guy was grabbing his crotch and asking him if he liked it better with or without teeth. Brendon and Ryan already know the story by heart, but that doesn’t stop them from laughing hard as they hear it again, both of them covering their bellies, his stomach hurting with it.

After that, they spend a few more hours just talking and laughing, until Ryan can feel the effects of the joint going away and feels a little more sleepy. He gets comfier on the bed, throwing his head back on Brendon’s shoulder and closing his eyes, listening to him telling stories about people in the campus. He always knows about them all. It’s around midnight when Spencer gets up of the bed and stretches, yawning and rubbing his face. 

“Well, dudes. It’s been a pleasure, but I’m gonna go now,” he says, looking at Ryan. “You coming or…?” he asks, watching Brendon’s hand running softly over Ryan’s hair. He looks pretty much asleep by now, but he answers.

“I’ll stay a bit longer,” he murmurs, not opening his eyes because he suspects how Spencer is looking at him. He feels Brendon move, and then he hears him close to his ear.

“You can sleep here if you want,” he murmurs softly. Ryan feels the hair of the back of his neck standing up. Being sleepy always makes him cold.

“Okay, then,” Spencer says. “See you guys tomorrow.”

“Nights, Spence,” they both say at the same time, laughing while Spencer rolls his eyes and gets out of the room.

The room gets silent when the door closes and they stop laughing. Brendon’s fingers are back on his hair and Ryan feels his body limp and relaxed. The silence is not an awkward one, even though he’s not used to be silent around Brendon. He doesn’t talk much but Brendon does talk a lot, about everything and nothing, and it’s not usual to see him so quiet.

“You’re quiet,” Ryan murmurs, his voice low and tired.

“I thought you were already sleeping. Didn’t want to wake you up,” Brendon explains. He stops running his fingers through Ryan’s hair then.

“’m not. But you can keep doing that, anyway,” he says, hearing Brendon’ soft laugh then.

“What? Am I your slave now?” Brendon jokes, patting his shoulder and moving to get out of bed. “I’m sorry to ruin your desires, but I have to take a shower,” he laughs, smiling at him. Ryan looks at him with just an eye open. “You can sleep in my bed. I’ll take Jon’s.”

Ryan just nods as he gets comfy on Brendon’s bed, hugging his pillow and closing his eyes again. He doesn’t fall asleep, though, he just hears him moving around the room and then getting in the bathroom and into the shower. He listens to the water falling and the soft sounds of Brendon singing while he showers. When he comes back to the room, Ryan can tell he’s trying not to make any sound, and he smiles.

“I’m still awake,” he says with a rough voice.

“Jesus fuck, asshole,” Brendon answers, and Ryan laughs because he can tell he was startled by him. “Warn a guy. Move or something. You look like you’re dead.”

“Sorry,” Ryan says, but he’s still laughing a little. Brendon starts to be louder now. He opens the wardrobe and some drawers, and Ryan admits he opens his eyes a little when he hears the towel fall to the floor. Just because he always has admired how carefree Brendon is about showing his body. He envies that of him. It makes sense, though, he would show a body like that if he had it, too. “So,” he clears his throat and closes his eyes again when Brendon puts on his underwear and turns around. “You doing something tomorrow?”

“Well. Actually, yes,” Brendon says, laughing a little. He doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds and Ryan frowns, opening his eyes. He feels pretty awake out of a sudden.

“You’re going to share or…?” he asks.

“I," Brendon laughs again, and in his eyes, Ryan can see him getting excited somehow. "You remember the guy I told you about last week?"  


“The one with the Harley Davidson?” Ryan is definitely awake now, and he sits on the bed.

“That one,” Brendon nods, putting his pajama pants on. “I’m going out with him. We’ve been talking during this past week and he asked me out. We have a date tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, frowning a little. He feels a rush of something running inside him that makes him tighten his jaw a little. Brendon sits on Jon’s bed and looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh? That’s all?” he laughs, but he must see something on Ryan’s face because he stops soon. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ryan says, shrugging. “Fine. I guess.”

“Fine?” Brendon asks again, and now he’s not laughing or smiling anymore, he looks confused. “Is there something you want to share?”

“What? I said fine. What do you want me to say?” Ryan asks, feeling angry out of a sudden.

“Oh, I don’t know. But not just a ‘fine’. You’re my best friend and this is the first guy that’s shown any interest in me that’s not just fucking my ass. At least pretend you’re happy for me or something.”

“Pretend? You want me to pretend?” Ryan asks, and he frowns harder. “Okay, then. Congratulations, man. Fucking marry him or something.”

“What the hell is wrong with you, man?!” Brendon asks, standing up. Ryan does too, stepping closer to him.

“No, what the hell is wrong with you?” he says, pointing at him. “He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”

“What?” Brendon laughs this time, incredulous. “Who the hell are you to say who deserves or doesn’t deserve me? You don’t even know him!”

“I don't need to!" Ryan shouts then. "Anyone who fucks you in a bathroom stall first thing and then pretends they want to meet you doesn't deserve you!"  


Brendon looks at him with wide eyes, more surprised than angry, his chest rising and falling fast. Ryan can feel his own chest moving fast, his heart speeding up inside him, his ears ringing with the shouting.  


“And who does, hum? Tell me, Ryan, who deserves me, then?” Brendon asks, calmer than before. He looks at him like he’s really waiting for an answer, and his face changes when he doesn’t get one. “Why don’t you say what you really want to say, hum? Say it, Ryan,” he adds, but it sounds more like a plea than an order.

Ryan feels his cheeks getting redder and his palms sweating, this whole body trembling because of how angry he is. His pulse gets faster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryan says. He sees Brendon’s face fall before he nods. He then looks down and bites his lip, laughing short and bitter and shaking his head. “What’s so funny now?” 

“Nothing. Just how stupid I am,” Brendon says, sounding bitter than before.

“Well, you are. You are stupid if you think he’s really interested in you.”

“Why? Because it is that hard for someone to be interested in me?” Brendon asks, and now he’s really angry again, his eyes hard and his jaw set in a firm line. Ryan feels guilty then and looks down.

“That’s not what I meant...”

“Well, it's what you said!" Brendon answers, looking at him like he's someone he doesn't even recognize anymore. "The stupid thing was to think it was you who were interested..." Brendon admits. Ryan looks up then, looking at him surprised by his words, his heart speeding up once more. He doesn't have time to say anything or even think about it. Brendon laughs and shakes his head, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing it hard. "Get out."  


“What?” Ryan asks stupidly, his throat dry and rough.

“Get out!” Brendon shouts now, pointing at the door. “Go to sleep to your fucking room, then, Ryan.”

And he doesn’t say anything else. He just walks to the bathroom and slams the door shut. Before Ryan can even process what’s happening he’s alone in the room, his hands trembling and his heart pounding in his ears. He needs a couple of minutes before he can move, and then he just leaves the room, not even trying to knock on the bathroom’s door because he doesn’t know what to say. He grabs his things and put his shoes on, closing the door softly at his back when he gets out.

They spend almost three weeks without saying a word to each other, and Ryan runs the conversation inside his head a million times wishing he hadn’t said anything or he had said something, he doesn’t know anymore. By the time they talk again, after a long and hard work on Spencer’s side, Brendon is having a nice and happy relationship with the boy with the Harley Davidson. Ryan apologizes and Brendon forgives him just like he always does. They don’t talk about it ever again.

*  


( _Present)_  


Ryan sighs for the hundredth time, watching the ring spin around on the table with his head resting in his hands. The ring is Brendon’s, he gave it to him right before he left, one he’s been wearing for a while now, and Ryan hasn’t let go of him since then.

“You’re moping,” Spencer says, and Ryan startles.

“Hum? Oh. I’m not,” he says, sitting straight and sighing.

“You are,” Spencer repeats. He watches him closely, and Ryan knows what he’s going to say. He just doesn’t know how much time is going to take him. “You miss him, hum?”

“Like fucking crazy,” he admits, sighing again and rubbing his face. “I can’t think about anything that’s not him, I, I can’t concentrate, I’m distracted all the time. I fucking dream about him.”

“It’s been two days, Ryan,” Spencer says, raising an eyebrow. “Dramatic much?”

“Shut up. You don’t know what it’s like,” he says, and Spencer dares him to explain just looking at him. “There hasn’t been a day I hadn’t had him since I was ten, you know? He’s been with me every fucking second of my entire life and now he’s gone and I just… I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep going just like that.”

“He’s not dead, Ross.”

“Yeah, he said the same. But he’s not here. He’s not with me...” Ryan watches the ring closely, putting it on and sighing again.

“You love him,” Spencer says then, and Ryan looks at him with a raised eyebrow, prepared to tell him of course he does, he is his best friend. Spencer stops him, though. “No, don’t tell me you do because he’s your best friend. You _love_ him. You’re in love with him. You’ve been in love with him since you discovered love existed and you can’t deny it because you’re so stupid you have been denying it to yourself for too long now,” Spencer says, sounding like the know-it-all he is. Ryan opens his mouth to talk, but he finds himself unable to say anything. He swallows and looks down, his heart speeding up. “I know you’ve been with guys.”

“How in hell do you know?” he asks, blushing hard.

“Because I know you. I know you realized you loved him long before he started dating that jerk, but you were a coward to admit it even to yourself, so you pretended it wasn’t happening. But then he started dating him, and you were jealous as fuck, and you thought maybe if you found someone else too you could convince yourself you weren’t in love with your best friend. So you tried,” Spencer says, smiling at him and sighing. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Ry. Brendon has been in love with you since he met you as well.”

“What?” he asks, and now his breathing stops for a moment. He would feel exposed because of Spencer knowing so much about him without him even tell him anything, but he’s too busy thinking that maybe, just maybe, there’s a possibility Brendon loves him back.

“God, you can’t be this much of an idiot,” Spencer laughs, shaking his head and sighing. “He’s been waiting for you to stop being a coward his whole life. You just took so long he started to believe he was wrong when he thought you felt something else.”

“Jesus… Why didn’t I notice that?” Ryan asks, feeling even more miserable now that he knows this. 

“Because, as I said, you're an idiot," Spencer answers, smiling like the cocksucker he is. "You two have been dancing around this for way too long," he rolls his eyes. "And you needed him to go to realize just how stupid you've been denying yourself this."  


“Shit. _Shit_ , Spence. God, I've been such a… Fuck. What do I do know? I messed up big time, I screwed it all, I made him think I didn't love him and now he's miles away and I'm here and..." he shakes his head, feeling desperate. Spencer looks at him like he's enjoying this way too much but at the same time, he feels exasperated.  


“Well. You do have an address, don’t you?” is all he says.

  


  


When Ryan pictured this, it looked like it does in movies, music playing in the background and everything, maybe there would be rain, and he would get there all wet but excited about it all. In reality, Ryan's biggest bag broke in the middle of the street and he's now carrying it on his arms along with the smallest one, his t-shirt is sticking to his back where he's sweating and his hair falling down on his eyes as much as he tries to blow it off. There are drops of sweat running down his face too, and who the hell would think it was this hot in San Francisco, anyway?  


He has to stop walking so he can take a look at the piece of paper on his hand, looking at it over the bag on his arm and checking he’s on the right street before he keeps walking, looking for the number. He’s been talking to Brendon the whole way, making him believe he’s still in Las Vegas, making sure he’s home because traveling all the way here to find an empty house wouldn’t be the romantic idea he had in mind, to be honest. 

Ryan is been calm the whole way, Spencer’s words giving him the confidence he needs, but as he gets to Brendon’s door and stops walking, he starts to get nervous. What if he’s with someone? What if Spencer got it all wrong? What if he already moved on? Ryan guesses he could pretend he’s come to visit as his best friend, but that wouldn’t explain why he brought two bags full of clothes and shoes and just a one-way plane ticket.

He has a couple of minutes of panic before he decides not to overthink it and just ring the doorbell. He thinks so little about it he forgets he’s carrying two bags and one of them falls right on his foot as Brendon’s door open and Brendon’s face appear right in front of him. 

“Dammit! Motherfu- Hey!” Ryan says when he sees him. And God, how could he be so stupid? Brendon’s wearing an old, worn out t-shirt and sweatpants. His face lights up when he sees him and his eyes grow big with surprise. He smiles so big his whole features change and he’s the most beautiful thing Ryan has ever seen, Jesus Christ. “Hi.”

“What…? Ryan!” Brendon says, looking at him up and down as if he’s checking he’s really here. He then laughs, clearly at him because he must look ridiculous all soaked in sweat, with a broken bag on his arms while the other one just hit his foot, his hair sticking up everywhere. Brendon laughs and then shakes his head before throwing himself at Ryan to give him a hug.

“Hi,” Ryan says again, letting go of the bag to hug him back hard. And fuck, it’s been just a week and it felt like years since he saw him. He missed him so much.

“What are you doing here? Asshole, you lied!” Brendon says with a big smile, letting go of him and looking at Ryan’s face. “Come on, come in. What happened to your bag?” He asks, laughing again and helping Ryan with his baggage. 

Ryan’s heart is already beating fast, maybe because of seeing him again after eight days, or maybe because of everything he’s feeling right now. As if all his feelings for Brendon that he always suppressed come back to him like a hurricane now. His hands are sweating and now the hotness is not to blame. Brendon is talking as they get inside, showing him the house as they pass, telling him how he never imagined he was visiting and how much Ryan is going to love San Francisco.

“God, I’m so happy you’re here,” Brendon says, hugging him again when they get to the living room and they leave the bags on the floor. “What? You couldn’t even survive a month without me? I know I’m awesome like that, but you could at lea-”

Ryan swears to God this wasn’t what he had in mind. He thought about a declaration, he practiced the words on the plane, dammit. But he didn’t imagine he would feel so needed he wouldn’t be able to hold back and he would grab Brendon’s face and just kiss him in the middle of his living room. But he does. And the moment he touches Brendon’s lips he feels his whole body tremble with it, a shiver running down his spine until his skin stands up on edge and he loses all capacity to think. Maybe he thought kissing his best friend would be weird somehow, but it feels so right, so logical, that Ryan slaps himself mentally for being so stubborn about this.

And after a few seconds he realizes Brendon is paralyzed in front of him, and then Ryan pulls back. He feels his cheeks blushing and he swallows, looking at Brendon’s wide open eyes. He doesn’t let go of his face, though. He can’t move.

“Um. S-sorry. This. This is not how I planned to do this,” Ryan says, his breath fast and his heart pounding hard. Brendon’s lips are a bit red and wet and Ryan licks his own to stop himself from licking Brendon’s.

“You. You planned this,” Brendon answers. It’s not a question, it sounds more like an unbelievable statement.

“I did. I," Ryan laughs nervously, letting his hands fall down to Brendon's shoulders and getting redder as he looks down. "I imagined it more like me telling you how stupid and blind and a coward I have been and how it took me two seconds since you left to realize I couldn't be without you. And not because you are my best friend but because I'm so fucking in love with you since forever it's stupid. I thought about telling you how I should have told you years ago and how I hope I'm not late now because, because I really, really love you and if you don't… If you are not, I, I'll have to buy a plane ticket back to V-"  


This time he's the one interrupted by Brendon's lips. Ryan makes a surprised noise and for a moment he doesn't know what to do with his hands, but then he feels Brendon's ones on his back pulling him closer and he grabs his face again, opening his mouth under Brendon's lips and kissing back just as eager.  


“About time, you fucking idiot,” Brendon murmurs against his lips, laughing and making Ryan laugh too.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Ryan breathes, feeling Brendon’s teeth grab his bottom lip.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

They stumble to the couch, laughing between kisses and bites. Brendon pushes him until Ryan is sitting on the couch and then he straddles his lap, leaning against him with a big smile, making Ryan lean his head back against the backrest so he can look at him better.  


“You’re not going to freak out about this, right?” Brendon asks, his eyes moving down to Ryan’s lips before kissing him again. Ryan shakes his head no while he kisses him, laughing softly when the kiss breaks.

“No. Of course not, this… This feels so right,” he says. He moves his hands down Brendon’s back until he reaches his ass, pulling him closer and making Brendon smile bigger, push his hips against him a little.

“I see...” he says, laughing. His eyes are so bright Ryan can’t look away, and he seems to have the lashes longer than ever, his freckles more alive, his lips redder. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful, did you know that?” Ryan says suddenly, laughing when he hears himself. To his surprise, he sees something he has never seen before in Brendon’s face. He blushes. And Ryan swears to God he will try to make him blush every day from now on. He looks at Ryan like he never in his life would have imagined something like that coming out of his mouth, and then he laughs nervously.

“Okay. Time to shut up now,” Brendon says, kissing him again. Ryan laughs in the kiss, trying to murmur something else and laughing more when Brendon bites him and stick his tongue into his mouth to shut him up.

“Stop, come on,” he says when he can.

“I don’t want to,” Brendon answers, pulling back to take his t-shirt off. “Sorry, it’s hot in San Francisco.”

“Not complaining,” Ryan murmurs, watching him up and down before going back to his face. Brendon’s smile is mischievous.

“Are we doing this, then?” he asks, and Ryan doesn’t need to ask what is he talking about. Brendon leans in slowly this time and kisses him softly, tender and sweet. Ryan feels himself melt in the kiss and he laughs softly when the kiss breaks with a wet sound.

“Well… It’s hard to say no when you ask like that,” he murmurs, swallowing and feeling too nervous out of a sudden. Brendon laughs and moves his lips down, kissing his neck and jawline.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want,” he whispers. Ryan feels Brendon’s skin burning where he’s touching his back, the tip of his fingers tingling with it.

“I want. I just… I don’t know how,” he says in a low voice, blushing hard and looking up at Brendon when he stops kissing him. “I mean, I know _how_. It’s just… You’re. Brendon.”

“Yeah, and you’re Ryan. Nice to meet you,” Brendon laughs, biting his lip and looking at him. Ryan can see his eyes darker than usual, can see the want, and he feels it, too. God, he does. But he doesn’t know where to start. Luckily for him, Brendon just know him too much. “Want me to lead?” he laughs softly, sliding his hands down Ryan’s chest, grabbing his crotch. “I can make myself irresistible...”

Ryan breathes a laugh and licks his lips, feeling the hot spread from his crotch to his limbs, swallowing and nodding because he doesn’t think he can talk right now. His blood is traveling too fast to his cock and his brain is drained. Brendon smiles knowingly and nods, too, dropping a kiss on Ryan’s nose and moving to stand up. He laughs again while he takes a few steps back, looking at Ryan in a way that’s making him want to jump out of his skin.

Brendon starts to unbutton his jeans slowly, biting his bottom lip and without taking his eyes off Ryan, who soon begins to understand what he meant with making himself irresistible. His hands tingle wanting to touch him and his jeans start to feel too tight between his legs. The only thing he hears is his own breathing and Brendon’s laugh from time to time as he takes his jeans off, his boxers leaving so little to the imagination Ryan has to move on the couch and swallow.

“Okay. I think I know what to do now, come on, come here,” he says eagerly, taking off his own t-shirt and reaching out to grab Brendon’s wrist, pulling on him until he’s straddling him again.

“I knew it,” Brendon laughs, kissing him as soon as he’s sitting on his lap, rubbing himself against Ryan unashamedly.

Things start to speed up from there, and soon Ryan is panting against him and Brendon is pulling on his jeans to take them off. They get naked as fast as they can and the moment Ryan feels Brendon’s hand around him he moans low and deep, biting him on the shoulder and leaning his head back. Ryan discovers Brendon talks during sex just as much as he talks the rest of the time, but  _so_ much dirtier. He's unable to stay still, too, and he kisses him, bites him, licks him and touches him everywhere like he hasn't got enough of him.  


Ryan doesn't think he has ever felt this turned on in his life. He feels like he's going to explode anytime, his cock so hard it hurts, every little touch of Brendon's hands making it harder to breathe. He tells Brendon he wants to suck him off because he didn't know how much until that moment, and he does, kneeling between his parted legs, feeling intoxicated with every moan and every thrust of his hips, the smell and the taste. He sucks him off fast and sloppy, licking him from the base to the tip, circling it with his tongue, going down as much as he can.  


“Okay, okay, stop. Come on, fuck, stop,” Brendon pants, laughing and pulling on his hair to make him come back up. “Jesus, you were born to suck cock, did you know that?” he says before kissing him deep and dirty.

“Such a romantic...” Ryan laughs, rubbing his cock against Brendon’s where they touch. “Fuck. Want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Yes. So bad,” he moans, straddling him and bringing Brendon’s hand to his mouth so he can suck two fingers and get them wet. “Come on.”

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” Brendon breathes as he moves his hand down. He touches him softly at first, but then he pulls in with one finger, slowly and testing. “So needy, so fucking ready for me. Fuck, you could even take the two of them already, right?” he says, Ryan’s mouth watering just hearing him. It’s like Brendon’s words set fire to every cell inside him as he talks, and he nods and moans when Brendon’s second finger get inside him.

“Fuck, yes. _Yes_ ,” he gasps, circling his hips, holding himself on Brendon’s hair as he licks his chest and bites his nipples.

Brendon prepares him slow but conscientiously, moving his fingers inside and out, touching him and looking for the pile of nerves that makes the pleasure intensify. He moves and moves and talks and makes Ryan tremble until he’s a mess of sweat and moans. He’s never been more ready in his life.

“Your cock. Come on, Bren. Your cock now,” he says, needing more, kissing Brendon’s swollen lips and grabbing his cock himself to guide him inside. He positions himself as soon as Brendon’s fingers are out of him, holding up on his knees and bringing Brendon’s cock between his ass cheeks. He leans his forehead against him and looks at his eyes, their breath mixing between then, the sweat making their skin sticky.

“You plan on torturing me much longer?” Brendon asks, smiling. “Cause I can feel your heat on my cock and I’m gonna go crazy if you don’t push down already.”

“Yeah. Sorry, sorry, I,” Ryan laughs too, and he kisses him before he starts to move down on Brendon’s cock. “Got distracted… _Fuck, yes_.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, pretty much,” Brendon groans, his fingers digging in Ryan’s hips as he pushes up too, letting out a growl when he’s all in. “You’re fucking tight. And hot. Out of a motherfucking wet dream.”

“You’re hard,” Ryan breathes, closing his eyes for a second and hearing Brendon laugh.

“Yeah, that’s the point,” he says, bringing his hands back to Ryan ass and opening him more. “I wouldn’t be able to do this if I wasn’t...” Brendon adds before thrusting a little, making Ryan swear under his breath. “Tell me when, baby. I can’t wait to fuck you so hard you remember it with every step tomorrow.”

Ryan moans louder this time, if it’s because of feeling Brendon’s cock inside him or his words he’s not sure. He just feels impossibly open and full, but so turned on and hot he thinks he’s not gonna make it to the end without having a break. Something tells him Brendon is not gonna give him one, though.

“Okay, okay," he breathes, starting to move. Brendon guides his movements with his hands, then, starting to thrust up with his hips from time to time to meet him halfway.  


Ryan holds himself on the back of the couch and Brendon’s hair, leaning in to get a better angle, starting to speed up as he feels Brendon’s mouth on his collarbone leaving a bruise. His moans get faster and breathless as he keeps going, moving his face down to kiss Brendon, opening his lips on his to gasp when he takes one hand off and slaps him hard before grabbing his ass tight again.

“Fuck, fuck, yes. Do that again,” Ryan murmurs, his eyes almost closed, his lips so close to Brendon’s he can feel it when he talks.

“Yeah? You like that?” he breathes, slapping him again harder this time. Ryan feels his skin tingle and he knows if he looks at it now his ass will have red fingerprints on it. “Look at you. So needy, so fucking hot. God, I bet you could come without touching yourself like this.”

“Brendon, fuck,” Ryan moans, trying to speed up but not getting it. His legs are too tired and he doesn’t get the angle right.

“Yes, baby. I love when you say my name like that,” Brendon gasps, thrusting harder but losing the coordination and slipping out of him. “Fuck.”

“I need…” Ryan breathes, looking for Brendon’s dick with his hand again. He doesn’t have time to find it, though, because Brendon gets his arm around his waist and holds him tight while he turns them around on the couch.

“I know what you need,” he says as he manhandles Ryan as he pleases, lying him down on the couch and getting between his legs before thrusting inside once more. And yeah, that’s better. That angle is so much better. “Say my name again. Come on, baby.”

“Bren, _fuck_ ,” Ryan moans, looking at him while Brendon starts fucking him hard now, pounding into him like he just knows exactly what Ryan wants, making him arch and swear and squirm. “Like that, yes, yes.”

He makes a sound with every thrust, and he knows Brendon is still talking but he can’t concentrate anymore because it feels so good. And then Brendon is changing the angle slightly and he’s hitting right where he has to and Ryan is trembling so hard he thinks he’s coming already. But he’s not. And Brendon keeps going and slows down and then speeds up again and slows down and it’s the best torture Ryan has ever thought of.

“Hey,” Brendon says against his mouth as he thrust slowly this time, breathing hard. “Can you please come already? Cause I’m starting to get tired,” he laughs, kissing him long and deep. Ryan laughs too, sliding his hands down his back and wetting it with sweat.

“’m right there. Just go for it once more and I’m yours,” he says, laughing a little. “Maybe a slap or two away.”

“You really liked that, hum?” Brendon smiles huge, kissing him again softly this time. “I love you,” he whispers, and Ryan smiles too, wrinkling his nose when he blushes.

“I know,” he says, kissing him again. “And now fuck me harder before you pull a muscle or something, old man.”

“I’ll show you old man,” Brendon says, but he’s laughing again right before he starts to thrust harder again, speeding up. 

He goes so fast Ryan can’t keep kissing him while he does, but soon enough he starts to feel it growing in his guts, the hot waves spreading to his limbs, his muscles tensing. He reaches to grab his cock and Brendon does too, and they both move in sync until he has to hold his breath and his belly tense and everything around him become white noise. He comes with a long and raw moan, arching on the couch as the spasms inside him trap Brendon’s cock.

Brendon kisses him through it and murmurs a lot of words Ryan can’t understand right now. He keeps fucking him when he can move again and Ryan kisses him back with his whole body until he can’t feel his lips and the only thing he can sense is the way Brendon’s body tense and jerks on top of him, growling his name and emptying himself inside him.

They both fall on the floor because the couch is too small, laughing like idiots and trying to get his breath back. Ryan pulls his damp hair back and closes his eyes, his chest rising and falling as he can hear Brendon's ragged breath too.  


“You’re nothing like I imagined you’d be,” Brendon says, laughing short. “Jesus.”

“You’re exactly like I imagined you’d be. But better,” Ryan answers, turning his head to look at him and smile big. “You’re a dirty, dirty man, Brendon Urie.”

“I know. But you are, too, and that… that I didn’t expect it,” he says, giggling. Ryan can’t help but reaching out and kiss him, softer this time because he’s still out of breath, smiling against his lips and rubbing his nose against Brendon’s. Brendon shakes his head like he can’t believe what he’s living, reaching out with his hand and touching the little scar on Ryan’s forehead softly.

“So,” he whispers, smiling barely inches away from his mouth. “I came here with just a couple of bags and a one-way plane ticket. You think I can make it work?”

Brendon smile gets impossibly wide, and his eyes shine so bright Ryan feels it in his guts. There it is, that look on Brendon’s face he always loved and always wanted him to have. The one Ryan promises himself he’s gonna try to make him have every day.

“I think we can arrange something...” Brendon answers, and then he kisses him again.

  



End file.
